Evident Views
by mango19
Summary: The CIA knows more than Sydney bargained for ...


Title: Evident Views  
  
Author: Mango19  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Rating: PG 14 (language)  
  
Feedback: Please. This is my first Alias Fanfic, let me know what you think.  
  
E-mail: mango_19@canada.com  
  
I'm staring again. I can't help it. She's standing there, awaiting my arrival, leaning over the rail of the dock, and I can't even approach her. It would ruin this moment. The moment where I can imagine, down the last detail, what it would be like to look with her off the dock with my arms around her and my nose buried in her hair. Just to be with her.  
  
She glances at her watch, that's my cue. She's probably thinking "Where the hell is he?" and here I am daydreaming. Does dreaming about somebody, while still awake at 1:37 in the morning count as daydreaming? What am I doing? Walking toward Sydney Bristow, the Sydney Bristow, thinking about the definition of daydreaming. I think I need help.  
  
Apparently, she hears me coming because she turns to look at me. She takes the opportunity to give me one of her heart-stopping smiles which succeeds. I like meeting her this late, in a remote place like this because we can be … just be with each other. I smile back, because I can, and I love the way she blushes just a bit when I do.  
  
She turns back around, just in case, and waits for me to arrive at her side. I wonder if she would prefer me on her left or right. What am I thinking? Right. No left. Left is best. Left. Who cares? Definitely right.  
  
I lean on the railing, like she does and we just stand like that for a moment. Not long, but long enough for me to notice that we aren't talking. "Nice night." I say looking up at the stars. Nope, can't get much more romantic than this.  
  
"A little chilly, but it's beautiful." Sydney added. I look down and she's wearing a black skirt. Sometimes I wonder about this girl, she's brilliant and yet wears skirts at 1:39 in the morning in April. She looks great though … I wonder if she put it on for me. To show off her …  
  
"So, what's my counter-mission?" She asks interrupting my thoughts. What? Counter-mission? Oh! Counter-mission!  
  
"Right," I say clearing my throat. She kind of laughs at this, I wonder if I'm really that transparent. I smile because I want her to know that she's the reason I'm acting like this. "Your SD-6 mission is to get into Lucas LeMarc's party, and into the third room on the second floor of his place. The files you're downloading for SD-6 will take approximately three minutes. In the same room, there's a safe behind a Degas print. You need to get into to the safe and obtain two vaccine's and replace them with these." I hand her the two tubes which resemble the ones she was to get for us. She slips them into her purse and snaps it shut without a second thought.  
  
She gives me one of those curt nods. You know, the ones to let me know that she understands. "Are you okay?" I ask, because she seems a bit distant. Am I the only one who notices?  
  
She looks at me and smiles like I am the only who notices when she's not okay. "Yeah." She pauses here, I'm not sure why. "Just … everything I guess. My father, my mother …" I wonder if she would ever add me onto that list. Not that I want to be on her lists of things that upset her, but on the list of things that affect her. I need to know that I affect her.  
  
"You want to talk about it?" I ask, praying she'll open up to me. When she does, I feel like the luckiest man alive. I'm the only person she can talk to, and she tells me this. The words, "You're the only person I can talk to." actually come out of her mouth. Her mouth.  
  
"Not tonight. I'm pretty tired." She sighs. I want to ask her about her night, see what she was doing all dressed up. But I know I shouldn't because I want to be with her so badly, to find out where she was without me would kill me.  
  
"Alright, you okay to walk home by yourself?" I ask stupidly. What am I saying? But she smiles at this and continues to look longingly in the water that lay feet from where we're standing.  
  
"I think I'll be fine." She says with amusement in her voice. "Goodnight, Michael." She tosses over her shoulder as she walks away. Michael? Did she just call me Michael?  
  
"Goodnight. Be Careful." I couldn't help myself. She's just so little. So fragile. Okay, so I've seen her take out four operatives at once, and have heard rumour of more, but I've seen her cry. Once you see Sydney Bristow cry, it's all over, because he lower lip quivers just a bit and you can predict exactly when her tears are going to overflow from her eyelids onto her cheeks.  
  
Looking into the water I can see my reflection and wonder how it is possible to analyze somebody so carefully like I do with Sydney. And yet, I never get sick of it. Weiss was teasing me about Sydney the other day, and I came to a startling conclusion. I'm in love with Sydney Bristow. Fuck.  
  
* * *  
  
I want to go to a place where I am suspended in ecstasy  
  
Somewhere between dark and light  
  
Where wrong becomes right  
  
- India Arie  
  
* * *  
  
It always seems that I sleep best after I see him. Vaughn just seems to calm me. Whenever something comes up, it's him I want to talk to. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Francie with every once of my being, but with Vaughn, Michael, whatever, I don't even have to lie about the little things. Sometimes I wonder if it had been anybody else as my handler, would it be them that I was attracted to. I picture myself walking toward the warehouse with my usual anticipating self going to meet Weiss, or Haladki. Something tells me it's him. There's just something about him that I can't get enough of. Okay, there are many things about him that I can't get enough of, but there's something deeper than physical attraction. A connection.  
  
Slipping into my second skin of a dress I look at myself critically in the mirror. The navy makes my skin look too pale and the halter makes my arms look to masculine. The slit in my skirt shows off my legs and the thought quickly passes through my mind that Vaughn would like it. No, Michael would like it, Vaughn would tell me that it was appropriate for the mission. I've seen a lot of Michael, lately.  
  
Knowing that Michael was going to be seeing the security cameras make me anxious. I can't believe I apply lip gloss thinking of him. How unprofessional is this? Fuck it, who cares?  
  
Slipping on my black heels my cell rings. It's Dickson. He wants to make sure everything is okay. Yes, everything is fine, but I seem to be fantasizing about my boss at the CIA too much lately. No not Sloane, the real CIA, silly. "Yes, everything is fine." I reply neutrally, "I'll be there shortly."  
  
* * *  
  
Try as I may I could never explain  
  
What I hear when you don't say a thing  
  
- Alison Krauss  
  
* * *  
  
I can't believe all I can do is watch. I watch Dickson's arm casually drape across Sydney's shoulders and for the first time I'm jealous of a middle-aged family man. She does look beautiful, though. Even in these fuzzy black and white security cameras she seems to glow.  
  
I watch her slowly slip up the stairs and the feed on the cameras is cut by Dixon as I curse the motives of both SD-6 and the CIA for taking that moment from me. The moment where she looked directly into the security camera and smiled. I could hear her conversation with Dixon but I have to wait to be able to talk to her until she changes her ear piece to my frequency. I hear her tell Dixon that she's going radio silent and hear a sharp tone before hearing her. "Vaughn, I'm almost in the bedroom. Security is pretty tight but nothing I can't handle." I have to smile at this. This girl kicks ass … literally.  
  
"Naturally." I say with a smile and I hear her giggle before I hear the sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh. I can only hope that it's Sydney hitting somebody and not the other way around. Everything gets silent all of the sudden when I hear the words "I'm in." I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and wait patiently for her to tell me that she's done. She's got the vaccine, she's out of there, she's not hurt.  
  
"Vaughn," she says. "We've got a problem." Damn. I swallow hard and ask the dreaded question.  
  
"What?"  
  
"There are half a dozen Degas prints in this room. Which is it?" She asks. Oh God, I have no idea. Wait a minute, prints?  
  
"Prints? There should be one original, it should be under the original." Please, Syd, do this and get out. Does she know how scary it is every time she goes on a mission? The thought of her not coming back and me having to deal with that?  
  
"Jesus, what am I, an art connoisseur? I work for the freaking CIA not the … I think I found it." If it weren't for the situation I'm sure I would have smiled at this. "Yeah, I got it. It's behind 'The Star' … cute." As I listen to her punch in the eight digit code I start to feel light headed and remind myself to breathe. I really am a mess for this girl.  
  
"I've made the switch. I'm going back to Dixon, the download is complete." Excellent. So incredibly excellent. "Vaughn?"  
  
"Yeah, good. Well done, Bristow." I hear the harsh tone indicating the change in frequency and hear her telling Dixon that she was successful.  
  
I can hear the clicking of her heels against the hard wood floor when they suddenly stop and I hear her telling Dixon that there's a problem and she's going radio silent again. I hear the frequency tone and her voice "Vaughn?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here." I say, blushing as the words come out of my mouth so fluidly.  
  
"Why is Haladki here?" She asks in a harsh whisper. What did she just say?  
  
"Haladki? Haladki isn't there. I mean is he?" I can't form a sentence, apparently. I need more information. This is too much to be processed.  
  
"Haladki. He's talking to LeMarc. About … some kind of trade? Information for an artefact. Rambaldi, I assume." She says to me reporting everything she can hear.  
  
"Information? What kind?" I ask in a hurry.  
  
"I don't know. About … a Rambaldi wooden carving for information obtained by the CIA about the whereabouts of … my mother." Her voice is laced with shock and disbelief.  
  
"Syd, get out of there. Finish the mission as planned and meet me as soon as you get back. I'll talk to Devlin." I say, trying to sound like an authority figure but crossing my fingers she'll agree.  
  
"I'm going back to Dixon." I can hear the hint of annoyance in her voice but I take the fact that she agreed not to confront the situation as a small victory.  
  
* * *  
  
This restlessness inside of me  
  
And it knows that you're not stranger  
  
You're my gravity  
  
- Jewel  
  
* * * 


End file.
